


naked as we came

by sawuhs



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Zombie Apocalypse, no superpowers here nope, tw: blood and gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 05:30:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1293157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sawuhs/pseuds/sawuhs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he wakes up, he twitches, realising his hand is still in Tony's. They must have died together, but the zombies left them unsalvaged. Some other living, moving prey must have come along and stolen the ghouls’ attention then. And here Loki is, awake, craving for flesh, and alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	naked as we came

**Author's Note:**

> The song 'Naked as We Came' is by Iron & Wine. Also thanks to Mav darling who cheered me on for this fic.

_She says "If I leave before you, darling_

_Don't you waste me in the ground"_

_I lay smiling like our sleeping children_

_One of us will die inside these arms_

_Eyes wide open, naked as we came_

_One will spread our ashes round the yard_

-

They have barely any memory of how this started, but the one thing they are certain about is that they have always been through everything together even before the zombies showed up and started seeking for flesh to own.

It’s been maybe three years; only Tony keeps count. Loki has given up on that, given up on the days. He doesn’t see a point. This whole apocalypse bullshit seems to go on forever, and how Loki misses soaking in warm baths with Tony lying on him.

There were a few times they joined a community, but they always seemed to break, or Tony and Loki could never agree with their views. Eventually they decided they were better off fending on their own, no matter how much more difficult it was for them.

-

In the first year, they manage to find Loki’s half-brother Thor. He is well and alive, much to Loki’s relief, but hardened in a way Loki never expected Thor to be. It breaks his heart to remember once when Thor was all smiles and the world was the happiest place in his eyes.

“I don’t think I can take this anymore,” Loki sighs as he sits down next to Tony in front of the campfire. The fire crackles and sparks; they’ll have to put it out in the next hour, or the lame brains will find them.

Tony knows what Loki means, and sighs as well. “Where are we gonna go then?” he asks, voice soft, and pulling Loki in closer by the waist. He looks from person to person, trying to ignore their frigid postures.

“Anywhere but here,” Loki answers, his eyes on his brother. “He is so unlike himself now.”

“Yeah.” Tony looks at Thor too, watching Thor’s movements. Thor moves with precision, as if every move is calculated. When someone approaches Thor, he listens to them and answers at them gravely. A good leader, Tony knows, but Thor’s barely anything he used to be.

“I actually miss his stupid smiles,” Loki grumbles, burying his face against Tony’s shoulder to hide from the embarrassment in admitting that.

In the past, Tony would have laughed if Loki ever said something like that. It’s only because Tony actually agrees with Loki that he says, “I miss how absolutely nothing would change how positive he is.”

Loki lets out his breath and smiles tightly when Thor looks over at him and nods. “We need to leave,” Loki says once Thor looks away.

“Alright,” Tony says. He presses a kiss to Loki’s temple, murmuring there, “Do you think he’ll be fine?”

Loki scoffs. “I think that if anyone is going to survive the goddamn apocalypse, it shall be Thor.”

-

At the start of the second year, they stumble upon Tony’s best friend, Steve. Tony didn’t think he’d ever see Steve again; the world is in enough chaos that Tony believes there isn’t anyone else to care about but themselves. It’s all about survival these days, and they have themselves to look out for.

Tony recognises Steve by the stupid jumper he never takes off. He recognises the stars and stripes and the colours of the American flag. Seeing Steve is a relief, one Tony didn’t know he would be feeling until now.

Excitedly, he slaps Loki on the arm a few times before dashing towards Steve. Upon crying out Steve’s name, Steve turns and Tony has to take a step back. Tony grits his teeth, not believing what he sees. Yet somehow, a part of him says that he should have expected it.

Steve’s cheeks are pale where rosy should be. His blue eyes that used to glitter with patriotism and all that bullshit are now milky whites, and his _teeth_ —his teeth are red with dried blood splattered down and past his lips. The front of his shirt has a hole, and Tony can see clearly how the flesh there has been torn out. That must have been the place Steve was bitten, but Tony can’t think past how he’d never have thought that Steve would be one of _them,_ contributing to this chaos.

Tony cries out again, this time animalistic, and even before Loki has a chance to do anything, Tony is surging forward once more, crashing into Steve. With his bare hands, Tony punches into Steve’s face over and over, completely ignoring how ‘Steve’ tries to claw Tony’s chest to get him off.

Tony has never actually thought that this whole situation to be unfair. But Steve of all people doesn’t deserve this. Doesn’t the world know that Steve is the sweetest person anyone will ever come across? Doesn’t the world know that Steve is one of the few that will always help regardless of the situation? If so, then why, why, _why—_

It isn’t until Loki has a hand on Tony’s shoulder that Tony realises that, Steve or not, it is no longer moving. Seeing the mess of a face he left, Tony chokes on a sob. He bites his lips to stifle a scream, and Loki pulls him in tightly. Face buried against Loki’s chest, Tony lets his tears out and rages about how unfair the world can be.

As Loki weeps himself, he tells Tony that he knows, he knows.

-

Halfway through that same year, they find Natasha and Clint. The four of them take a liking to each other immediately, and work well together. Tony thought that in a way, they were like the other couple. Tony was similar to Clint, and Loki to Natasha. Loki had agreed to that without argument, much to Tony’s surprise.

“The traps aren’t helping,” Clint shouts to them. “They’re catching up on us!”

“I think we can fucking tell,” Natasha grumbles, swatting Clint over the head even as they run.

Tony can’t help but laugh, though it makes him pant a little harder. They were caught off-guard; they had just been packing up camp from the night before and were about to leave. The munchers came out of nowhere, scaring the crap out of them and causing them to bolt. On the bright side, they were just about done packing so not much was left behind.

As they near the edge of the forest, it becomes clear to them that there is another herd of zombies heading towards them. They could all sprint off in one direction together, but that would just mean they’ll have to deal with the entire pack of runners. If they go their separate ways, at least a pair of them will have better chances of surviving.

The four of them pause from their running, only long enough to glance at each other. It’s a silent agreement; they know they have to split up.

There are no goodbyes, no words of gratitude. With a final grim nod to each other, they’re running off in separate directions. Even though he knows he shouldn’t, Loki does a double take. Spotting Natasha and Clint is difficult with the swarm between them, but Loki manages to catch the shine of Natasha’s radiant hair, and how she is also looking back at them. Loki swears that in that moment, Natasha’s hazel-green eyes has never shone brighter.

When they get to safety, Tony and Loki suspects that if there were people they would have stayed with through the apocalypse, Natasha and Clint would definitely have been the ones.

It’s a pity they haven’t found the other couple ever since.

-

Then there was Bruce in the third year. Poor paranoid Bruce, who set traps everywhere in his vicinity and refused to leave where he thought safe. Tony only knew Bruce because they used to be lab partners in high school. If Bruce didn’t move away, they would probably have been the best of friends.

Tony recognises Bruce by his mop of hair. He would be lying though, if he said he had recognised Bruce immediately. At first Tony thought that what he saw through the boarded windows was just one of those _things_. It was the pacing that made Tony move closer to peer into the house. Apart from the man, Tony notices how there are rambles written all over the wall. It can only be the work of a mad man, but surely they don’t belong to Bruce. He’s the sanest person Tony knows.

“Bruce?” Tony gasps in shock. Behind Tony, Loki tilts his head curiously. He had heard of Bruce before, but never met the man.

Inside, Bruce jumps and looks around himself wildly. “Who’s there?” he hisses. “And how do you know my name?”

“Bruce, buddy. It’s me, Tony. From high school?”

Bruce scoffs, still trying to source the voice. “Bullshit,” he laughs uncontrollably. “You can’t be Tony. Everyone’s dead or dying.”

At those words, Loki tugs at Tony’s shirt. Quietly, he nods his head towards the entrance of the house, where a thin string can be seen only because of the sun’s reflection. Loki points to the top of the door where a blade is hung. Tony bites on his bottom lip and tries to make sense of it.

When Tony finally looks back into window, he finds himself looking into Bruce’s crazed eyes. A shudder shoots down Tony’s spine, hard enough to make him take a step back. He takes a hold of Loki’s hand just as Bruce picks up a rifle.

“We need to go,” Tony says urgently. By the end of his sentence, Bruce is starting to head out of the room. Tony can easily guess where Bruce is going next.

Loki had seen the way Bruce looked, and agrees immediately. They make a start, dashing towards the direction they came from. Tony clenches his teeth, heart aching to see the gentle Bruce he knew now like that. They can hear the cocking of rifle, the steady fire of bullets. At their heels, they can feel the bullets kissing the dirt, barely missing them.

Bruce is doing this for survival, Tony knows, but looking into Bruce’s eyes has also told Tony two things: Bruce has already given up on humanity, and that the end of the world can break even the strongest people.

-

There had been other people, scattered over the years, but they had never been significant enough for Tony or Loki to remember or care about enough. After all, they’ve always ended up without anyone else. All they needed was each other. They were dependent on each other, yes, but they have always been self-sufficient as a pair.

-

“Twelve left,” Loki sighs, glancing over at Tony who is waist deep in the lake. “We need to stock up.”

Tony scowls and sinks himself deeper into the water so that only his eyes are peering at Loki. It’s been a long time since they’ve found water this clean and are taking advantage of it. Their clothes have been washed and hung up to dry, and while Tony is playing around in the water, Loki has decided to take stock of what they have before joining Tony.

“Anthony,” Loki says sternly, “I am serious. We had fifty a couple of days ago.”

“Urgh, fine,” Tony huffs when he emerges his head from the water. “But we could stay here you know. We haven’t encountered anything ever since we came into this forest.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “You have probably just jinxed us, Anthony. Good job.”

Tony sticks out his tongue, but in the next second, he is holding out his arm to Loki. “Come here, you idiot. Stop worrying your pretty head for a while and let us enjoy what we have.”

Shaking his head to show he doesn’t approve, Loki makes his way into the water despite that. “We only gotten this far because we have been cautious,” Loki murmurs when he is in Tony’s arms. “Even if we have yet to see anything certainly does not mean we are safe.”

“I know, love,” Tony answers, just as quietly. “But let us have just this, okay? It’s not every day we come across a sanctuary like this.”

Loki scoffs, slicking back Tony’s hair. Before this whole fiasco, Loki knows that Tony would have never let his hair grown out this much. “Fine,” Loki finally says, putting his own small smile to Tony’s lips.

“So what’s for dinner?” Tony asks when they pull apart. Loki chuckles and pokes Tony in the belly. Once upon a time, it had been soft, squishy even. Loki remembers being able to grab it and make fun of Tony’s ‘little pouch’. Now it’s all lean muscle, and it makes Loki hate the world a little bit more.

“Even the damned apocalypse cannot change your appetite,” Loki huffs fondly.

“Well, duh,” Tony replies. “It’s one of the only things in life I look forward too.”

“Oh? What would be the other one then?”

“Don’t be coy,” Tony growls playfully. “You know what it is.”

As Loki grins, leaning in to kiss Tony a second time, but receives a splash of water in his face instead. He pouts but it turns into a sinister smirk, making Tony go, “Oh shit.” He has never won Loki in a fight like this; Loki has always been too quick for him. Sly bastard.

That night, they lay on the grass side by side. They’ve set up camp, so that they’ll wake up if those undead fuckers come near. It was Tony’s invention. Basically it is device that detects large signs of movement within 50 feet of them. It might not be much, but there was only so much Tony could make do with, and there was only so much they could carry with them. Besides, it was difficult to find resources to keep it powered. They are barely able to use it, but it’ll last them at least tonight.

-

Morning comes, and they’re alive. They are pretty sure it’s by luck, because when Tony checked, the battery for the little robot had petered out even before the sunrise came. That shouldn’t have been the case, but Tony supposes it does happen. It’s so damned hard to come across anything that lasts these days.

Loki shrugs to that knowledge, but if he is being honest, he is overwhelmed by relief that they are safe and still have each other. He knows they can’t stay here any longer though; there isn’t enough ammo to keep them safe if the ghouls came closer.

Seriously though, what the fuck, everything they have seen or read be it in movies or books about the zombies have been completely different.

Tony and Loki have noticed that these things, whatever they actually are, are still ultimately human. They have basic intelligence, Tony had found out somehow, but when they come close to flesh, warm and living flesh, they seem to lose the ability to plan. It’s their instinct to go after what they want most; and maybe what they actually are are simply beings that have been reduced to their primal instinct. Tony wishes he knew, and infected might have been a better term for them, but they still act like cannibal corpses.

The other thing they noticed within the first month is that while these things can run, they also get tired, which is why the first thing Tony and Loki started building up on was their stamina. If they were going to survive, they needed to be able to outrun these things. But in the event they can’t, well, that’s why they need the bullets. It’s also not just the head that drops them to the ground. The heart will also do.

“I want to stay here forever,” Tony groans as he packs the little that they have.

“No you do not,” Loki answers. “You would much rather be back in our apartment so you can tinker away at our electronics.”

Tony admits that is completely true. He misses the shithole of an apartment they have. It was crammed; there was two rooms (their bedroom and the study) along with the kitchen and living room, yes, but with the amount of books Loki brought into their home, there was never any space. Tony complained about it all the time, and while they both knew Tony had the money to get them a bigger place, they never did because that apartment was theirs and it was home.

Loki looks at Tony tenderly, knowing fully well that Tony is thinking, only because he is thinking the same. “Come on,” he makes himself say, holding up Tony’s backpack. “We need to get those ammo before sun falls.”

“Always ruining the mood,” Tony grumbles, but he’s thanking Loki by taking his hand and squeezing it. The gold band on Loki’s ring finger feels cool to touch, but it only warms Tony’s heart.

“Someone has to, darling.”

“Tell me again why I love you?”

“Because it is the end of the world, and we are all we have now.”

“How fucking poetic,” Tony sneers, but he still has Loki’s hand wrapped in his, and they have started walking.

Loki laughs, eyes glittering with amusement. “You know I love you, Tony dear.”

“Yes, but we both know that isn’t the reason why.”

“No.”

“But we are all we have now.”

“Yes, love. We are all we have now.”

-

It takes them two towns, seven bullets, and four days to finally find more ammo. It isn’t much, but twenty is so much better than twelve or five.

They decide to take refuge in one of the abandoned houses; it’s not like the town is overrun by the muted souls. Inside, it’s a wreck—of course it’s a wreck. They aren’t the first to have gone through this place, and they are pretty sure they won’t be the last. At least it doesn’t smell like rotting flesh in here. The last house they spent the night in reeked of it, and there was no way for them to get rid of the scent. They had no choice but to deal with it; all the other houses were the same, and being inside was better than being exposed.

The dust is thick on the furniture, and Loki instinctively wants to clean the house out and make it their own. But the end hasn’t had its end yet, and Loki knows that now is not the time. Someday they’ll find a place for themselves again, someday they’ll build their home together again. For now they’ll take it a day at a time.

As much as they hate it, they usually take turn to sleep. They’d have preferred falling asleep in each other arms, like that night at the lake, or any other nights before this whole thing began.

“Wake up,” Tony hisses, shaking Loki, not even two hours after Loki’s fallen asleep.

“What?” Loki whines. He sits up and rubs his eyes, looking around them.

“I think someone’s in the house.”

True enough, something crunches and echoes through the place. Tony makes a quick check, looking out the window. He doesn’t see any of _them_ , and sighs. Most of the time, the meat bags tended to travel in groups. If it is just a couple of them, Tony and Loki might still make it out okay.

“Grab your gun,” Tony says, opting to pull out ice pick he found in the kitchen.

Loki scowls, snatching the ice pick away from Tony. Tony’s lips thin, opening his hand to Loki.

“Come on,” he sighs. “Let’s not go through this again.”

Loki has always been reluctant to let Tony engage in a melee. The first time Tony had ever done that, Loki came so close to losing Tony. It was a feeling he never wanted to go through again, even it was so long ago. Loki hates to admit, but he knows that between the two of them, Tony is much better suited for combat. Loki might be swift, but being in up close to them has always frozen him up. Tony thinks it is because Loki _knows_ somewhere in their rotting bodies, these foul beings are still a ghost of who they used to be. Tony just never saw them that way after he first saw one of them tearing someone’s skin out.

“Can we not just use the guns?” Loki tries to bargain. “We shall be safer that way.”

Pinching his brows, Tony says, “Look, Lokes. You know I love you, but we need to stop arguing about this. We need to save as much ammo as we can, and you know gunshots only attract them.”

Loki hates this; he remembers days when Tony used to be reckless, speeding down highways and laughing at the cops that chased them. Three damned years, it has been, and Tony has grown to watch their backs in a way Loki never thought possible. Loki is reminded of Thor and misses him. At least, he thinks, Tony still smiles.

Loki slaps the ice pick back into Tony’s hand, but not without glaring him down first. “If you let _anything_ happen to you,” he says, “I _will_ bring you back from the dead only to kill you myself.”

“I was right when I said the apocalypse wouldn’t change the romantic in you,” Tony laughs, stepping in for a quick kiss. Loki scowls against Tony’s lips, but he sighs, and gives in.

“Alright. We have wasted enough time. Let us go.”

After Tony opens the door, he creeps out and looks over the banister. Immediately he spots the stiff standing at the bottom of the stairs. It’s looking about, as if scanning its surroundings. Tony wonders if it had followed them from the previous town, where it had been infested with the living dead.

“Oi, cunt face,” Tony shouts, but only raising his voice loud enough for it to hear. Behind him, Loki rolls his eyes and shakes his head, wondering why Tony even bothers antagonising things that already want to sink their hands into his skin and tear it out for grub.

The zombie hisses, head snapping towards Tony. It growls, guttural, and starts to speed its way up the stairs. Behind it, two more appears, but they are a little slower to react.

By the time the first one reaches the top of the stairs, Tony is poised and ready. The stupid thing rams into Tony’s ice pick, and collapses from the stab to its heart. Tony scoffs and yanks the ice pick out, waiting for the second one to make its way up.

This one saw the way its companion died, and learns not to rush up the stairs. Instead it moves up at a quick pace, dodging Tony’s stab to its heart. It makes a go for Tony’s leg, swooping down with its jaw wide open, wanting to bite. As soon as it reaches down, Tony kicks it in the face, and it falls backward down the stairs, crashing into the third one that cries out and claws the other zombie to get off, but it’s dead. Its rotting face couldn’t protect itself from Tony’s kick, which had bashed its face in, and probably shattered the skull hard enough to do something to the brain.

Tony glances at Loki with a raised eyebrow before making his way down the stairs. The remaining zombie screeches at Tony, arms reaching for food. Tony knows if he wasn’t around, the thing might shove the dead being off and make its merry way, but with food dangling in front of it, it can’t think straight.

“I almost feel sorry for you,” Tony sighs, swatting away the grabby hands and then driving the ice pick through its eyes. He leaves the ice pick there, deciding he doesn’t like how close it puts himself to these suckers. He can find a better weapon along the way, remembering a machete near the entrance of the town.

“You are alright,” Loki states. He winds his arms around Tony from the back and hugs him tightly. Pressing a kiss to Tony’s shoulder, Loki lets go. “I can never get used to this,” he murmurs.

“I know, babe,” Tony says softly. “Neither can I.”

-

Another week puts them down to two ammo, and it doesn’t help that Tony’s machete is now too blunt to do much damage. This has happened before, maybe a year and a half ago, but that was when they had met Natasha and Clint. Though unwilling to share at first, Natasha and Clint warmed up to them and saved their lives. In return, Tony and Loki had proved they were worth the resources. If only they could find the other pair again, then that would be great.

They’ve been trying to find more weapons and ammo, but every place they happen upon seems to be overrun by the risen fuckers. Tony swears if they don’t restock soon enough, he’s going to make them backtrack to that lake and stay there forever somehow. Loki really isn’t opposed to that idea, but wonders if what they have right now will even help with the trip back.

One more day passes and Tony decides the machete is useless to them now. He throws it aside, and just as it hits the ground, the blade breaks off from the hilt. It startles a laugh out of Tony, who then blinks at it owlishly.

“Well then,” he huffs, sobering up.

Loki feels conflicted. They’re low on supply. The last time they ate was two days ago, and they’re starving. He wishes they could have just settled down somewhere and made life there. They could have cleared out whatever place it was, and made supply runs when they needed to. But the thought of how Bruce was and thinking that they might end up like him frightened Loki so much that they kept moving on.

“What now?” Loki says quietly. He runs his hand through his hair and grips it tightly, trying to come up with a plan.

“Hope we get lucky, I suppose.”

“I am rather sure our luck has run out by now.”

“Hah,” Tony snorts. “I guess you’re right.”

-

They do get lucky though, coming across an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere that provides them with reprieve for the night, food, and ammo. Loki feels so at ease that he breaks down, and Tony has to gather his lover into his arms, whispering nonsensical comfort to Loki until Loki calms down and can breathe properly again.

“Fuck,” Loki heaves, pressing his face against Tony’s neck.

“Fuck,” Tony agrees. He turns to kiss Loki on the temple, running a hand down Loki’s back.

Though it completely goes against what they should be doing, they settle down at the abandoned house. For once, it feels like they have finally found somewhere they belong. Loki does tidy up the house, and Tony manages to god-knows-how get electricity to work enough just so he can make himself a pot of coffee once a day. It’s really shit coffee; but coffee is still coffee to Tony.

If they ignored how they have to board up the windows, and the doors when they go to bed at night, then they can pretend that these past three years have never happened and all is back to normal. Compared to anything they’ve had before, it really is paradise.

The first few days are difficult. Neither of them manage to catch proper sleep; they have been surviving on roughly four to five hours of sleep and trying to sleep for more than that seems to only give them nightmares; one of them will always waking up drenched in cold sweat, and the other one will always wake up to calm him down.

They know they shouldn’t be giving themselves this comfort. Even with the house being in the middle of nowhere, with enough grass around it to know when an undead is approaching, there is still the chance that they will appear, or worse, salvagers coming to take this refuge away from them.

Days dribble into weeks, and the house has a surprisingly amount of food to even last them that long. Loki is no longer constantly tensed up, and Tony seems to laugh easier. Despite that, they spend the days keeping their bodies in shape just in case they have to be on the run once again. But for now, they’re safe here.

“It must be a rouse,” Tony says, one day, while they’re lounging shoulder to shoulder on the front porch.

Loki hums in reply, dropping his head to rest in the crook of Tony’s neck.

“It’s never this easy,” Tony sighs, throwing a rock ahead. “It can’t be this easy.”

“Who knows?” Loki murmurs, turning his head to glance at Tony, who leans down and seals his lips against Loki’s.

Tugging a stray strand of hair away from Loki’s face, Tony asks, “Do you think it’s all over then?”

“Maybe,” is Loki’s quiet reply.

But after three years, five months and eleven days of running, Tony finds it too hard to believe. They’ve been here—what?, sixteen days now?—and not a sign of living or undead has come across them. The longest they’ve been this safe before this was a mere two days. But Tony knows it’s also possible, that somehow, someone or something has managed to make the end reach its end. It has never hurt for them to hope.

“Maybe,” Tony echoes, and squeezes the hand that’s in his.

-

When he wakes up, he twitches, realising his hand is still in Tony’s. He turns to his side, eyes roaming over his lover. Loki sighs as his eyes land on Tony’s neck. He sits up, sighing once more, still not letting go of Tony’s hand. His instincts are itching, but Loki tries to fight against it.

They must have died together, but the zombies left them unsalvaged, only ripping their throats out. Some other living, moving prey must have come along and stolen the ghouls’ attention then. And here Loki is, awake, craving for flesh, and alone.

He vaguely recalls running. They must have been in some town. He can’t quite remember why, but they had to leave that abandoned house for some reason. It must have been for food, he thinks. _Food._ God, he was so hungry.

Loki lets go of Tony’s hand then, and runs his own hand down Tony’s chest. Without meaning to, his touch is rough, and the shirt tears away all too easily. Loki feels his eyes watering then, thoroughly disgusted by what he knows is about to come. It’ll be his first feed as one of _them_ , and he knows that it is inevitable.

He’s angry that Tony isn’t waking up as an undead, but in his anger, his fingernails seem to have found its way through Tony’s skin. Loki flinches, crying out and yanking his hand away from Tony. In doing so, warm blood splatters on his skin. He sobs, trying to fight against his hunger.

But he knows, and he fucking hates it, that soon enough, his instinct will take over and he’ll feast one way or another. Loki could get up and run away, but his brain knows that Tony will still be here, and where his brain knows there is food, it will seek.

Loki is almost aware that his memories are slipping away. He can’t remember anything from his childhood now, only that he had a family, was adopted, or something of the sort. The knowledge that he is forgetting terrifies him, and he stares at Tony, willing himself to remember all the times they had spent together.

He remembers they met in college, at some frat party, and Loki had been so pissed off at Tony for trying to come onto him that he threw Tony out a window. Luckily they were only on the first floor, and Tony hadn’t survived brutal damage. Loki was so surprised at himself he was speechless, but the best part was Tony waltzed right back into the house anyway and said, “Now that we’re done with that, can I have your number?”

Loki chuckles at the memory, but the tears in his eyes flow easier. He can feel his hands aching to bring flesh to his lips. This time, he doesn’t fight it. If Tony is to be gone, Loki knows that at least it’s him that Tony is lost to. It doesn’t make it any easier, no, but at least—at the very least—not some stranger is going to come by and take Tony away from him.

The taste of flesh brings relief to Loki’s mind, but also in a way that makes him want to throw up. The knowledge that he is here, hands deep in Tony’s stomach and devouring him, forces Loki to remember that day Tony cried about how unjust the world is.

It also reminds him of that day he first went out of a date with Tony, and how horribly it had gone. Within the first week of knowing Tony, Loki had found out about the streak of people Tony had slept with. He had a horrible reputation, and the only reason Loki chose to go out with Tony was because he wasn’t looking for anything serious. Loki says the date had gone horribly only because instead of having a one night stand, they both ended up falling in love with each other even before the night ended.

By now, Loki is certain that there are more important things he should be trying to remember, but each slide of warmth that is _Tony_ washes away his thoughts one by one.

Is this how it feels like for every single person who turned? Loki can’t help but wonder. Whatever way this came about, or whoever made this happen, should be stabbed and made to go through the same. Though knowing how the world is, that person or thing probably died a nice peaceful death.

Loki forces him to stop, and sit back. He tries not to look at Tony, looking down at his own hands instead. He recalls once, when the sight of this amount of blood would have made his stomach lurch. All he sees now is red that is water. Bringing a hand up to his mouth, Loki licks his fingers. It tastes great, but that process lands his eyes on Tony though, and it amazes him how much he can still see through the tears. Then again even with his foggy vision, it’s clear to him how much of a disaster Tony is right now. It doesn’t help that Tony looks so at peace.

There is something important he should be memorising, something too damned important for him to forget. Loki takes a deep breath—does he even still need to breathe?—and makes himself halt the crying. He wipes away the tears, not that it helps much, what with his dirtied hands and all.

He scans over Tony, trying to search, until finally, finally, his eyes land on Tony’s ring finger. Immediately, the tears are back again because of all things, that should be the last thing that escapes his attention. Loki wants to beat himself up over it, but knows there’s no fucking point in that. It’s his instincts that are taking over, and memories like that aren’t going to help him, well, _live._

Once, Loki never saw himself being the typed to get married. Past loves had let him damaged and untrusting, but Tony sauntered into his life and mended him in ways he never thought possible. Their friends always teased them, asking what the wedding day was going to be. They laughed it off in response each time, saying their friends weren’t invited, and that even if they did get married, they’d probably be drunk and doing it in Vegas.

Loki made sure that would never happen though. He was the one who stepped his game up and proposed to Tony somewhere in their mid-twenties. Tony, being Tony, lost it and ran off for a few days. But by then, Loki was used to Tony going off like that whenever something Tony didn’t know how to deal with happened. Loki never approved of that, yet he was sure that Tony would come back, and Tony did.

Apparently, Tony was pissed off that he wasn’t the one who proposed first. He was actually going to do it later that day. Tony never liked it when someone beat him to something.

Anyway, the eventual answer had been yes, much to Loki’s annoyance. Tony could really have just said so earlier and spared them the whole dramatics. Because, seriously, if anyone was a bigger drama queen than Loki could be, it was definitely Tony.

The marriage had been a simple one, nothing extravagant like Loki thought Tony would have wanted. Close friends and relatives came, a short ceremony was held, and that was pretty much it. In all honesty, they could have been alright without the marriage. After all, it was just a piece of paper, and they knew who their hearts belonged to at the end of the day. It never changed that they loved the feeling of the ring around their fingers though; it was a nice constant reminder of each other.

Loki hates how he knows that in the next few minutes, or even seconds, that he is going to forget all of it. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s just _not fucking fair._ Loki wants to scream at something, at someone, maybe even at Tony, but he knows none of that will prove fruitful. Instead he reaches for Tony’s left hand, stumbles for it more like. He needs to eat again, but even the hungry is fading. Cold meat isn’t appealing to him, and he knows he needs to seek for something warm soon enough.

With shaky hands, Loki fumbles for the ring that’s on Tony’s finger, scared to death that he might just lose the process of what he’s doing and leave it abandoned. In his blood, he knows he is heading there, but he needs to hold on just a little longer. He needs this, needs to have a part of Tony with him, because even if he forgets and goes on as one of the undead, then at least, Tony is always, always going to be a part of him no matter where he goes.

It’s only when Tony’s ring is placed next to Loki’s on his finger that Loki finally gives in. He can feel as the last bit of himself dissipates, and is taken over by primal urge. He looks at the chuck of meat before him, cool and uninteresting. Scoffing at it, and he pushes himself to his feet. His stomach feels tight, and full. He must have had plenty to eat before the person had lost its heat.

Regardless, that doesn’t matter now. Soon, he’ll be hungry again, and he’ll need to feed. The food in front of him isn’t appetising, and it won’t last. He doesn’t know which direction he should go, doesn’t know where to start his search, but the sun is warm on his face and it feels brilliant.

Stretching his arms out towards it, he notices two bloodied gold bands on his finger. He tilts his head, wondering where they came from and what they mean. He finds it doesn’t concern him, but it makes good decoration and he shall keep it there.

He smiles to himself, and rubs his thumbs against the rings. For now, he’ll search for food. He can wonder about where they came from later.


End file.
